


when the dead do walk, seek water’s run

by mikochan_noda



Category: Old Kingdom - Garth Nix, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: All fics are self-indulgences, Blood, Death, F/M, Gen, I love this series so much, Libraries, M/M, Non-Chronological, Old Kingdom AU, Parental Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Shapeshifters - Freeform, Zombies?, also taken quite a lot of liberties from the series, canon charter magic laws and abhorsen details are modified a little, magic!, so it's really a loose adaptation of the world to them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-06-13 21:28:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15373695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikochan_noda/pseuds/mikochan_noda
Summary: For years, Izuku had longed for his Sight to awaken.He had the makings of a Clayr: his bright green eyes, his tanned skin and the star-like glow of his smile, but he has never shown any signs or talent for precognition.But he never minded it, because he had Kacchan.Kacchan has always been there with him, since the very beginning.----For everyone and everything, there is a time to die.Some do not know it, or would delay it,but its truth cannot be denied.- Garth Nix,Abhorsen





	1. The Walker

**Author's Note:**

  * For [peonydee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/peonydee/gifts).



> I really want to use the title Deku and his Disreputable Kacchan.
> 
> But we can't have everything.
> 
> This fic is actually something I thought fun to explore. Not completely serious with the whole thing, which is why I’m just posting short bursts of texts for this universe. Using this fic to warm-up my engines before tackling those long, incomplete fics. Have fun reading!

_Tears lined the soft edges of his eyes, cradling a dead rabbit against his forest-green robes._

_Izuku swore that it could’ve lived; He had felt its blood-stained fur rising and falling a second ago, felt its warmth slowly diminishing in between his fingers. He heard its rapid breathing before it abruptly stopped, like a ripple in still waters._

_They had a good few meters before reaching StarMount and Sunfall peaks, their home. Usually, it was a comfort to be underneath the shades of those glittering ice towers, but now Izuku found them frustrating, even the thought of running through the spiral stairs to reach the infirmary..._

_He was too late._

_Izuku promised. He had to bring it back to Kouda, too distraught in worry for his missing pet._

_“Idiot.”_

_Kacchan glared at his pathetic form, kneeling in the middle of the snowy landscape. He’s always been a tiny bundle of irritation, never missing a moment to remind Izuku that he held a grudge - on what, Izuku never knew even a clue._

_So why would Kacchan follow him wherever Izuku ventured outside? Despite being immune to the cold, he had donned himself in a red cloak and golden fur, with a thick smoke-black tunic. Right now, the cloak was wrapped around Izuku’s shoulders, forced to him as soon as he sneezed and started sniveling._

_He had always been like this - an enigma, a contradiction._

_Kacchan always confused him, in all of his prickly yet kind nature._

_Wishing that Izuku had learned the simplest warming spell before, Izuku was too drained to be riled right now, curling his whole body instead to provide any semblance of heat to the poor creature._

_Then to his surprise, Kacchan’s hand, all rough and alarmingly callused, took his own small, dainty one to gently place his soft, reddening palm in between its long ears._

_“Stop crying.” He instructed with such uncharacteristic calm. “Close your eyes, nerd.”_

_“...But, Kacchan.” The protest faltered when his friend whistled a low, sharp tune._

_The sound reverberated through the icy slope, bouncing off clearly with the rustling wind._

_“Can you do that,_ _Deku_?”

_Slightly affronted at the insinuation of his uselessness, that he couldn’t even do a simple tune, Izuku pursed his trembling lips and whistled faintly._

_“Do it again.”_

_His little fingers pressed more firmly on his damp knuckles, prompting Izuku to climb the musical scale confidently._

_Suddenly, frost quickly nipped at his fingertips, stealing the breath from his lungs. Waters swathed his ankles like a quilt before the darkness swallowed his shins whole, then molten red stars lit vein-like tendrils around his arms-_

“Big brother!”

Izuku stuttered a gasp, startling him completely awake. The whimsical dream dissolved like an early morning fog, unable to remember anything but the remaining swell of emotions that made his heart race.

Anticipation. Fear. _Awe_.

He didn’t know what the dream was, but it didn’t feel like a vision.

Izuku sighed in disappointment, before turning to Eri’s excited laugh with a trembling smile. She just shoved the woolen blanket to the floor, before tugging at the top of his green sleeve, urging him off the cot. Her snow-white curls wore the moonstone circlet, wearing the cream robes that marked her as a member of the Clayrs.

“Get up, Big Brother! Mister Aizawa was already calling for everyone.”

He stifled a groan, knowing that he was almost late to the Reflectory.

It was pointless to go there though, for someone like him, who stood out as a jarring dark green dot in a white sea of seers.

Eight-year-old Eri was Seen by the Nine Day Watch and was inducted two years ago. Most of the new Clayrs were given the gift of Sight as soon as four years old, and the latest would be at twelve, almost on the cusp of adolescence.

To Izuku’s dismay, he had just turned fourteen five days ago, still Sightless.

It was rare to be gifted with Sight past age twelve, and he had never known his parents. Yes, he had the bright green eyes, the tanned skin, and their starlit glow, but he was too small for his age. Too plain looking for a typical Clayr.   

Master Toshinori, his adoptive father, one of the Guardians of the Young, told him that he had awakened his Sight when he was ten. He was the most respected Clayr in the Kingdom, and it was believed that a longer delay in one’s awakening often indicated a greater, more powerful precognition.

Yet to Izuku, he always felt that time was running short, and doubt was creeping in.

“Are you going to work for the library for the whole day, Big Brother?”

When he was five, Izuku prayed fervently upon a Charter Stone for a mere glimpse of a future. Once when he was seven, after a crying spell, he refused to open his throbbing eyes and move out of his bed, wishing for a sudden burst of light to reveal even the most mundane of visions. There was a time when he was nine years old, poking his hidden charter sigil on his forehead as if trying to find a switch somewhere to activate his Sight.

But now?   

_It doesn’t matter, Izuku._

Unconsciously, his left thumb and index roll the smooth amber ring on his right pinky, still as warm as a firestorm. it was a comforting habit aside from his low mutterings, a frequent balm for this familiar ache, trying to wave off that all-encompassing despair that loomed behind him.

_It doesn’t._

“I’m sorry, Eri. But I promise I’ll make an apple crumble for you after dinner.”

He linked their smallest fingers together, earning a delighted smile in return


	2. The Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izuku was five years old - still hopeful on becoming a Clayr, still dreaming of adventures - when he first met Kacchan.

His father, Master Toshinori, was not only the best Clayr out there, but the mightiest swordsmage in the entire land, eclipsing even the prowess of the dual-wielding King. There was never a month he wasn’t called upon in court for consultation, thus he frequently gathered maps and cross-referenced information for the young royal couple, before being flying off the Hangar in his haste to provide his services for the recuperating Old Kingdom.

Izuku was often left to his own devices when his attendance wasn’t required for sword training or archery. He spent afternoons clambering up stools and ladders on the shelves. To him, the Great Library bore thousands of mysteries of the Old Kingdom, just waiting to be discovered by curious, strong Librarians of the Clayr. 

He knew someday he’d take his father’s place, a well-known clairvoyant and warrior for the Kingdom, but it’d not be so bad to be a Librarian of the Great Clayr Library. 

One year has passed in the Glacier, and he was finally adjusting to his tasks and studies. But he still preferred to linger on sunspots, either to study his long notes or to spend time with his favored books.

He was fairly decent on the basic spell work, but struggled in divination methods that wasn’t utilized for the past decade. He wished Mister Aizawa would tackle more interesting topics, like legends or myths before the loss of the Royalty, of the Wallmakers or even obscure facts about the other side of the Wall, but he didn’t want him to know that he was failing at predicting even the weather for tomorrow’s afternoon. (Well, he still got full marks. He could read the weather using the skies and the wind, with far more accurate answers too.)

Izuku remembered one of his favored hideouts: Bypassing three floors from the receiving area,  ducking under a false shelf at the eight row on the left wing, pushing a small trap door, then crawling to the other side of the hidden tunnel. It lead to a wonderful reading room, populated by a cluster of moving stars as its glass ceiling, with bottled moonlight as floating lanterns once twilight descends over the peaks.

He’d been using it for weeks, and no one seemed to know it, with the entrance barely fitting an adult Clayr. It had a gleaming wooden floor and scattered cushions, with an inviting atmosphere, as if it had always been warmed by sunlight. He liked the place so much, that sometimes he’d prefer to take a nap there than his sleeping quarters.

So he wasn’t expecting a giant dog occupying his favorite corner of the sunlit room.

Izuku squeaked in fear, before slapping a hand to his mouth. He trembled on his knobbly knees, by the oaken floor, hoping that he didn’t wake the creature up. There were Free Magic monsters that roamed freely in the library, wreaking havoc on artifacts or casting curses upon fools.

And Izuku knew, even at his young age, that he was far from equipped to fight one of them.

To his horror, one of its pointy ears flicked to his direction.

“Sorry.” He whispered loudly, shuffling awkwardly to the side, trembling. If the creature tried to move, it’d probably grab him by the throat with those fangs. Closing his eyes tightly, he crawled to the other side of the small astrarium, trying to make as little noise as possible. By Charter, his breathing was becoming too loud, he should slow it down, maybe the creature can even hear his heartbeat-

“Brat.”

Izuku stilled comically, one hand raised to the other, still crawling.     

“Shut up.”

“O-okay.” He agreed, before plopping over an empty corner, burying his whole body on the second biggest cushion (his strange companion had the biggest one) and started reading. But never did Izuku relax, and he kept one eye on the dog, shifting constantly. Skin prickled at the orange collar on his neck, and if he concentrated enough, he could see the projection of tiny golden lights  ( _stones, are they charter seals?)_ swirling in constant motion.

The golden tail snapped up.

Izuku straightened his back, flattening it against the wall in terror.

The giant dog rounded on him, baring his fangs, and glared at him with pinprick red-blood eyes.

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?” He growled, and Izuku couldn’t help but hiccup and sob..

“Please!” He cried, small arms over his face, trying to hide his shut eyes. “Don’t eat me.”  

A rumbling sigh, deep and explosive, before he felt something soft by his bare toes.

Fur?

“Trust me, that’s the last thing in my mind, _Deku_.”

His voice was different, coarse but younger. Quiet.

“Deku?...My name’s Izuku!” Arms that were raised in protection flailed in indignation, pointing a finger to his own forehead, where his Charter Mark glowed his name in verdant fire. It then flickered out as soon as he blinked in astonishment

The giant dog became...a kid?

A young boy with a burst of spiky ash-blond hair, red -eyed glare and a really angry face.   

He wore a black, short-sleeved tunic over his maroon breeches. Up close, he could see the small silver bell that hung from his collared neck, and it puzzled him that even when the...creature tilted his head, it made no sound.

Embarrassed, Izuku broke his intense gaze, and stared at his toes, trying to find the soft thing he had felt, but it was already gone.

A soft growl made his attention dart back to the threat in front of him, who glowered at him. His teeth was bared, small fangs exposed, grumpy as he was woken from his nap.

“Get lost, Deku.”

“I know what a _Deku_ is.” Izuku matched his scowl with a frown, not liking the insult. “I’m not stupid. You’re mean.”

“Have you heard of monsters? They’re supposed to be _mean_.” The boy rolled his eyes, before slumping back to the cushion. ”Leave me alone, you pest.”

The bell chimed in response, and both of them let out a noisy yawn.

“What’s your name?” Izuku asked instead, as he ran a fist across one eye, trying to rub off the sudden desire to take a long nap. “I’ll leave you alone, promise.”

“Hah?”

“I won’t leave until you give me your name.”

“You’re five right? Probably haven’t learned the intermediate Charter alphabet...”

“What do you-” Another yawn, elongating a vowel. “-mean?”

“It’d be hard for you to say it correctly, dumbass.”

“Let me try. I’ll pronounce it right.”

“I have many names, but...”

He grinned as if excited to give Izuku a challenge.

“Call me Katsuki.”

“Ka--Kachuu-”

To his surprise, he patiently waited for him, as Izuku lingered on the vowel, struggling.

“Not _chu_ , _tsu_.”

Small lips pursed, small tongue trying to coil around the consonants correctly, but Katsuki had enough by his failed fifth attempt.

“Fine, call me Kacchan instead. You’re still Deku to me for as long as you can’t say my name right.” Burying his scowling face back to the cushion, his newfound friend scorned a vehement _Scram! Get out!_ , which was slightly ridiculous, as his muffled words...sounded so _cute_

A few hours later, Izuku wisely didn’t giggle when a wet nose pressed upon his small heel as soon as he scooted away.


	3. Acceptance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the eve of his 14th birthday, Izuku realized a few truths.

Izuku had an epiphany, a few minutes before the second hand struck twelve.

He was contemplative, surprisingly silent, his mutterings absent even when he was left with his overflowing somber thoughts.The possibility came to him, as he finally perused crumbling logs of those who were cremated in the Pyre. It took some skill to produce a copy back in his satchel, but it was worth it for tonight.

As soon as he found his mother’s name, he realized that he wasn’t meant to be a Clayr.

The Old Kingdom had suffered two centuries of interregnum; Without the royal family to lead, without their blood to heal the Charter Stones - the fountain source of all magic in the kingdom - it left a long period of unrest and fear.

Most of the people fled to the Cliffs or beyond the Walls, for the Hands - those foul, animated corpses of rogue necromancers - roamed freely at night. The Abhorsen line, a family that had almost frayed out of their existence, attempted to banish them, along with the sparse but skilled warriors of the Clayr.

But everyone knew then that it was a losing battle.

The situation had always been so dire, it was only a matter of time before one ends up to die by a Hand - and that was a far more benevolent end. For most of the time, necromancers turned their enemies into their servants, using their corpses until they rot and souls tattered, not even enough to become Gore Crows.

Dabi, of his blue flames, army of Hands and untamable free magic, seemed unstoppable.

He had all conquered four of the Great Five Stones, leaving the Clayr’s Stone for the last.

What happened then, fifteen years ago, was like legends that Izuku had often loved to read repeatedly: Outside the Wall, the Abhorsen Queen flew over to the devastated Old Kingdom to save everyone. She brandished her Charter-made sword and bore her authentic bell-bandoliers against Dabi, banishing his evil and breathing life back to the lost Royal line.

After returning the Undead Swarm back to Death, and with the power of the revived King, she had cursed Dabi to an eternal slumber. This had brought in the new era, called the _Restoration_ \- derived from the King and Queen’s mission to painstakingly restore each and every broken Charter Stone in the Old Kingdom, and return the weakened magic to the citizens.

Based from what Izuku had learned from the list of those who were buried in the Pyre, apparently his mother died a year before the Restoration. His father, along with his retinue of soldiers, ran to one of the rest point huts of Belisaere Peaks as soon as he had received her distress signal.

But in the end, they found Inko’s body and her toddler, sleeping deeply in her stiff-cold arms.

They never specified what Inko did, only his adoptive father told him of her fate, and how he greatly respected his mother. Toshinori also told him of what he knew of his blood-father, Hisashi, a talented Clayr that could read the future better with the reflection of burning flames on frozen water, and his disappearance after he went away from Starmount two decades ago.

If that was true, then it meant Izuku had inherited his mother’s gift  

And he didn’t know if she was a talented Charter Mage, or what her talent was. But she surely had fought for the Old Kingdom, but decided to flee to the Glacier, with its protection and isolation, and possessing the only intact Charter Stone during those troubled times to amplify her magic.

Izuku could’ve asked his father for a more clarified information of his heritage, but Master Toshinori had been gone for another summons three months ago, and as he grew in age, the time they spent together became more less than ever. He missed him terribly, but there was tension over the Kingdom, with the increasing susurrus of dread with the seers in the Refractory.

There was trouble brewing, and Izuku didn’t need the Sight to know that.

Resigning to the fact that he’d get into trouble if he returned to his quarters right now, Izuku went to the hidden five-feet long trick door at the end of the fifth bookshelf. The soft light lit by smokeless mage fires illuminated the rising narrow, circular staircase, before reaching a familiar small planetarium.

Izuku found Kacchan sleeping on the cushions, donning his human form, limbs akimbo on the floor. His right hand imitated a claw, tensing once in a while, beside his drooling face. It was amusing that as an ash-gold wolf, he was all grace and power, almost terrifying any malicious creature that lingered in the Library.

Gingerly, he sat beside his dearest companion and watched the moonlight seep through the star-models floating across the glass ceiling, casting shadows and light dancing across his relaxed features. One could almost mistake Katsuki as a Clayr himself - if it weren't for his dark clothes and streaks of sunset on his sleeves that he frequently wears.

But this was the Kacchan he had known, the one that was always sleeping everywhere in the library. The Kacchan who hated the cold, wanted more red peppers mixed in with his stew. Kacchan who complained of how slow he was in learning the more advanced Charter Magic, but would abruptly close a workbook with a huge paw whenever he forgets dinner.

For him, Kacchan was more of an oversized, temperamental cat that came to you at random times, than a fearsome wolf that desired company and had broken a Stilken’s spine with his giant maws.

Izuku carefully smoothed those wild spikes, soft as his fur, away from his forehead.

His amber ring on his pinky throbbed, along with the hovering charter marks on his collar.

Izuku bit his lip, stifling his gasp. It always felt new to him, the ringing pulse of deep magic..

In every book that the Great Library had kept, there were no descriptions that identified what type of Free Spirit the great wolf was, nor any translations of the ancient spells that burned bright on his collar. He was a bit grateful to learn that the collar itself was probably made by a talented Wallmaker - which meant the seal was older than the _Restoration_.

Wallmakers were already gone for three hundred years, and he didn’t want his friend to know that he suspected him as a servant of those necromancers, one of those sealed enemies by the Crown.

The only clue was that small silver bell, always lulling anyone to sleep, with its soporific chime.

The complicated character on the metal lip of the bell read _Ranna_ , _the Sleeper_.

Izuku wasn’t oblivious; Every magic wielder worth his salt knows the Seven Bells of Death.

It made sense then, that Kacchan was a _bound_ Free Spirit.

There is always a reason why one seals a Free Spirit - whose powers are comparable to gods.   

Izuku had always wanted to ask Kacchan _what_ kind of a Free Magic creature he was. A demon? A ghost? He was a shapeshifter, but advanced Charter Magic taught you how to create skins, creating residues of your form clinging on your body once you drop your appearance . Kacchan had no leftover marks of his glamour magic once he shed his wolven form. If anything, he was the one who bled into his wolf form.

Back then, when he told his father of his first meeting with Kacchan, Toshinori told him to never remove his collar. It was an understandable request, but it was more baffling that his father didn’t even discourage him to befriend Kacchan.

As a swordmage, he had surely encountered deadlier entities out in the world, but doubted he encountered anything as ancient as Katsuki, if there were no written records about him.

Of course, he had brought it up his curiosity with Kacchan. But then Kacchan would dismiss him with a grunt or worse, when he had pestered him for information, it roused his temper enough to take a dangerous edge, casting a frightening shadow over his features, and left

He didn’t approach him for a week.

Izuku learned to stop asking. But he never stopped thinking about it. Not even once.

Because Katsuki _aged._ Grew along with him. Such magical control of one’s appearance was unheard of Free Magic creatures. He’s basically _immortal_ , but here he stayed, not even leaving the Glacier towers unless Izuku went out during spring season. Even if he was bound by the collar, he knew that Kacchan wasn’t an imprisoned creature of the Clayrs, when he could get pass through the gate wards of the mounts without any harm.   

Something kept Kacchan here.

And was it wrong for Izuku to wish that it was _someone_?

That Kacchan stayed here for...

“Kacchan.”

He poked at his cheek.

A soft rumble, a pointed nose scrunching before burrowing further on the cushion.  

“Good morning, Kacchan.”

The dark pupil of one lone eye constricted vertically in alarm, before slowly dilating, enough to nearly swallow the blood-red iris. His friend let him ruffle his blond spikes for a few seconds, before swatting his hand away from him. A fang flashed from Kacchan’s mouth, bright against the low light that gave the place an ethereal glow.

An unmistakable growl of displeasure broke the silence.

“Deku, you’re supposed to be in your room.”

“I...didn’t notice the time.” Sheepishly, Izuku looked at his his callused hand, smoothing over the creases on his chestnut breeches. “And I can’t really sleep, but I promise I’ll be back to my room before four.”  

_And I want to see you like this. A gift for myself._

Kacchan was a familiar company with Izuku -  to the Chief Librarian, to Mister Aizawa, to his father, but he’ve only been more comfortable to wear his human guise when he’s alone with him. He didn't know why, but he really appreciated it.

There were so many questions he wanted answers for. But Izuku could wait for them, if it meant Kacchan would stay here with him. His ring blazed with warmth, as if in response to his thoughts.

With a gusty sigh, Kacchan turned around, showing his slouched back to Izuku.

“Stupid. Don’t worry about tomorrow if they don’t call you.”

“I’m not worrying.” This time, Izuku wouldn’t cry once he wakes up. Yes, he's disappointed he wasn’t meant to be a Clayr, but it’ll be alright. If Kacchan was here, then he wasn’t useless. He was meant for _something_ , he just didn’t know what it was. “It doesn’t matter.”

"Then stop thinking about it, Deku. Just-”

Katsuki quickly flicked the bell on his neck.

“-go to sleep.”

To Izuku’s surprise, the bell _sang._ Ranna chimed a lullaby, loud and ringing in the room, softly lulling Izuku to slumber, slumping his forehead in between the sharp bones of Kacchan’s back.


	4. A Job Offer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At nine years old, Izuku was given an option to keep his mind off things

“Why can’t they See me?”

Izuku sobbed, with arms wrapped around his raised knees. The tenth morning after his ninth birthday reminded him of how cruel the world was - to deny him of his most favored wish.

The Nine Day Watch should’ve Seen him today.

Izuku was already getting older, and he wasn’t a Clayr yet...

Would he even become one?

_Why?_

What was so different about him? Izuku tried to wipe the outflow of his tears with his arm, but he couldn’t stop crying. He hated that everyone looked at him with pity in their eyes, as those who were younger than him went to their very own scrying rooms. The parting of people when he passed by corridors, of how unsightly he was, still wearing the detestable green tunic.

And not to mention that Kacchan had a point in their earlier argument. Izuku was undeniably being a bit spoiled and selfish for a rotten wish. He was angry at him, that he was being more stupid than his usual _Deku_ self.

 _So what if you didn’t become a Clayr?_ He snarled as Izuku refused to get out of his room, small claws on the curve of his narrow hips as he loomed over him in anger. _What if you couldn’t see visions or omens? That’s a bloody useless skill if you ask me. Staring at ice mirrors or tamed fires or whatever shit you think is fun-_

Izuku stormed off, but not before screaming back his parting words.

_You wouldn’t understand! You’re not human, Kacchan!_

Clawing at the woolen sleeves on his elbows, he wanted to tear this clothing off him. It was unfair that he can’t be a Clayr, couldn’t even see if there's a definite future for him. If he could even follow his dreams. Follow his father’s footsteps-

“Izuku, my boy.”

He nearly leaped out of his seat on the thick ledge, startled.

“Dad.”

Turning around, his father was standing over him, coughing on his hand.

“You’ve missed sword practice.”

Shame further flushed his reddening face, hiding it behind his thighs, forehead pressed to his knees, making himself smaller. It was one of those rare days that his father had time to spend with him, and was willing to even spar and check his form - and he’d spent all of that precious hour to wallow in self-pity.

A large hand ruffled his green curls.

“Want to tell me about it, son?”

Izuku almost said that everything was fine, but his watering eyes and the dripping snot on his face already told his father about everything.

“I-I wasn’t...called today.”

“Oh.”

His father slowly lowered himself, sitting beside him on the cold surface of the wide hangar ledge that anchored the pastel-colored Paperwings, winds breathing slowly on his loose golden hair. Today,  with the arrival of summer at the snowy peaks, the breeze was more manageable inside the Hangar.

“Did you know that I was Seen late?”

“Really?”

Toshinori’s features - of sallow cheeks and sickly pallor - brightened with a smile. “Ten years old.”

Izuku’s eyes widened, mouth widening in amazement. That was unheard of, as the most delayed age he’d known being called as in was around six years old. His salty tears finally dried on his freckled cheeks, some of them even staying as lingering frost on the curve of his jaw.

“...Was it difficult?”

“Yes, quite difficult, my boy.” He wrapped an arm around his shoulders, bringing him closer to his willow like form. There was still remains a reliable strength in his father, despite his weakened body. “I remember being frequently left alone when it was time for scrying and reading the futures. I hardly had older friends that stayed with me. All I had was my huge, awkward body that still wore those horrible dark clothes. They clashed with my hair horribly.”

"...Makes you stand out.” Izuku mumbled in agreement.

His father made that familiar contemplative _hmm_. “Is standing out making you uncomfortable?”

“No. Not that.” He fiddled with edges of his father’s black leather gloves. “I just...want to belong.”

“You’re already a big brother to others, Izuku.” Toshinori tightened his one-arm hug around him, his breath puffing more clouds as he sighed. “You take care of your siblings. They might not spend so much time with you after they’ve gotten their Sight, but they will never forget your kindness. You’d even risk disobeying rules like sneaking out-”

Here, Izuku flinched when his father tweaked his nose with a cloth on his hand.

“-to save their pets, or buy their toys at the flatland markets, without asking any permission.”

“That was a long time ago!” He protested through a covered mouth as Toshinori wiped the snot with a handkerchief. “And I can protect myself! That’s what you train me for!”

“You don’t know a decent spell to maintain a fire for hours.” Ice-blue eyes narrowed in consternation. “So that means no adventures out of the towers for a while. Now that I think of it, would you like to work in the library?”

“Huh?” Taken aback, Izuku stopped in the middle of clearing his poor nose and blinked puffed up eyes.

“I’m sure Chiyo will be glad for your assistance. It’ll keep you occupied and out of mischief.” There was a hearty pat on the back of his shoulders, a comforting motion that made Izuku sneeze again. “Besides, you’ve been spending so much time in the library recently. Are you looking for something? Maybe we can go there and I can help you.”

“N-No. D-Dad. T-Th-There’s n-nothing-”

Too late to stop his lying tells, Izuku’s eyes skittered left and right, and suddenly scooted his butt to the side, trying to escape. But his father’s hold remained firm, staring at him with a stern, disappointed stare.

“Izuku.”

He caved.

“Uhm, it’s...Kacchan.”

“Kacchan?”

“He’s...I don’t really know _what_ he is, Dad. But he’s a kid that wanders all around the library and I kind of find him everywhere. Or is it Kacchan the one who finds _me_ ? He loves to shift into a wolf, but he looks like an adorable husky if you ask me. And there’s this collar that had charter seal projections that I couldn’t even decipher with the advanced charter alphabet. I tried to write them on a scroll once and after the fourth stroke, it _exploded_ ! Like _boom_! That’s why I got burnt. Sorry, I lied about the ovens last time and-”

“Stop, my boy.”

Toshinori’s hand returned back to his green curls.

Izuku’s head bobbled a bit, effectively cutting his babble.

“Let me catch up. Start from the beginning.”

“Um!” Izuku took off the woolen glove on his right hand and proudly displayed his pinky finger. The amber ring stood out amidst the monochromatic shades of their surroundings, gleaming like a fading piece of a star. “Look, Kacchan gave me a ring on my ninth birthday! He said never to take the ring off except when something happens. He told me I’d know, but he’s so...frustrating. Mysterious and stuff. You’d think something as blunt as Kacchan would-”

“Kacchan.” Toshinori sighed, then he wrapped both of his arms all around Izuku. His father’s huge chin now dug on his messy curls, before softly whispering on them. “Promise never to remove his collar unless you are in grave danger, you hear me?”

“Of course, I’m not going to take his collar off. He’s probably sealed for a reason.”

“Izuku, please.”  

“I promise.”

“Well then, should we go back and do some sword trai-”

One, or two panicking yelps cut his father’s words before a familiar wolf leaped from behind to tug at Izuku’s right sleeve.

“Kacchan!” Disengaging himself from his father’s embrace, Izuku then wrapped his arms around the wolf’s thick neck before burying his freckled, tear-dried cheeks, now becoming damp again with fresh drops on the frazzled ash-gold fur.  “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

Through Izuku’s frantic apologies, the creature raised its huge head and met Toshinori’s blank stare with his sharp, carmine gaze.

“Okay, I get it. Shut up. Stop fretting. It’s getting to my nerves.” Katsuki grumbled, leaning his massive jaw against Izuku’s shoulders, eyes closed. “You’re fine, nerd?”

“Yeah, it’s because--Dad!” With one arm still looped around its long neck, Izuku turned to his father with a wide grin. “This is Kacchan! Kacchan, this is Dad! You know _All Might_ , right? Of course, you do! He’s the strongest and-”

“Of course, I know him. I’ve seen him...around.”  His wet snout grazed over the tips of Izuku’s earlobe. This prompted Izuku to clamp a hand over his ear, turn to his friend and swat at the wolf with a stern _Kacchan!_ , who deftly avoided the retaliation with one hop to the ground to stand over Izuku’s red leather boots.

“Hello...Kacchan, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” The swordmage gave him a brief nod, and added with a non-committal, level voice. “I think you’ll spend a lot more time with Izuku. Tomorrow, he’ll be working in the Library. Despite all the dangerous things kept hidden in its unexplored bowels, I know he’ll be perfectly fine with you by his side. Please take care of him”

To Izuku’s astonishment, the wolf lowered his head quietly, before he sat flat to the ground, now completely dropping his whole weight on Izuku’s feet. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say Kacchan was pleased by the praise.

“Very well, old man.” The wolf sniffed, licking a paw. “Don’t you need him for training? Go. Whatever I’ll have to say, I’ll deal with him later.”

“Yes, yes. Come along, son. Let’s not waste daylight.”

Izuku quickly stood up and tripped face first to the powdered snow with Kacchan’s weight on his feet. His father helped him to his knees and ruffled off the ice dust on his hair.

A bark of laughter, then Izuku rubbed his poor nose, abused in this entire ordeal.  

“Why are you doing this to me?” He muttered. “I hate you.”

“Likewise, slowpoke.” Kacchan trotted to his listing side, nudging a wet snout on Izuku’s tummy, earning him a ticklish shriek.

Toshinori only gave an exasperated sigh, and looked heavenward. “Charter, help us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Dadmight and his sons.


	5. First Interim: Apple Crumble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eri finally gets her well-deserved treat.

“Here are the peeled apples, Big brother!”

“That’s good, Eri! Next, you can start on taking off the nutshells-”

Izuku paused in preparing the dry mixture.

May the Charter bless her heart, for Eri not only peeled the apples, but also took off the apple cores! And she had two bowls all ready, one filled with walnuts already out of their shells, the other large one almost brimming with quartered apple slices.

She beamed up at him proudly, standing on that wooden stool with a knife at hand, trying to cut evenly the last of the halven apples.

But what almost gave him a conniption was Kacchan’s huge wolven form, sitting on his hind legs beside Eri, nudging her elbows with his muzzle, making her giggle. In response, Kacchan grinned more widely, displaying his dangerous, fanged teeth out in the open.

“Did you let Kacchan in, Eri?”

The wolf in question then turned at him, a tongue lolling in answer. He could just imagine that smirk on his human face, smug that he was the better, _faster_ cook - even if he was instructing an eight-year old. As a wolf.

“...I’m sorry.” Eri looked guilty at least, putting the knife aside, then took a clean rag to wipe her hands. “Kacchan looked lonely outside.”

“You know Kacchan isn’t allowed in the kitchen, right?” Izuku placed his fingers on the bridge of his nose, knowing a headache was coming soon. How on earth did Kacchan sneak in? He even roped in an innocent child for his mischief. If the head cook saw Kacchan around, not only he’d be banned in the kitchen, but he’d be refused entry in the dining room. “He might shed some fur and contami- _Kacchan_!”

When Kacchan went to jump his right foot, he was just expecting a playful nip.

But _no_ , Kacchan _bit_ him.There were holes on his good red leather boots, even felt the shallow graze of his fangs on his ankle. It was by some miracle that he didn’t reflexively kicked him away, but if he did kick him, Kacchan deserved it.   

“Why would you do this, Kacchan?” He wailed.

And then the wolf had the nerve to look affronted, turn his back with a growl before sauntering to the door, tail flicking back and forth. Izuku wanted to screech _stop acting like a cat vying for attention, Kacchan_ but Izuku liked his calves functional.

(izuku knew that kacchan likes to curl or touch his legs a lot.

he didn’t want to think about it too much.)  

“I think Kacchan wants a slice too.”

“I don’t think--”

A loud bark.

“ _Kacchan_ ! You’re going to get me in trouble. Would you just _wait_?”

“He can stay, Big brother. It’s just twenty minutes right?”

“Fine.” Izuku knew he was the losing party here, knowing as a Free Spirit, Kacchan can break even the strongest barrier if he so wished. “But he’ll stay away from the ice box. I know you’re here for the bell peppers. Stop eating them raw. They’re giving you such a bad morning breath.”

This time, he was prepared to dodge the sudden pounce of a snarling wolf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit struggling with the next three chapters, so I might get a bit delayed with them. But have this fun piece? Thank you! :D


	6. Behind the Doors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izuku encountered his first brush with death when he was eleven years old.

“We shouldn’t stay here, dumbass.”

The exploration of uncharted Old Level rooms from the lower floors has always been a messy business. With unknown cursed artifacts, skulking malicious spirits, and slumbering magical creatures, it was inadvisable to linger in one place for too long within the library.

When All Might suggested Izuku to work here, he thought that he’d be finally given with charter swords and key bracelets - like most of the internal forces wore. Excited, Izuku agreed, as he could probably finally have his sword training and spell work put to good use.

But to his disappointment, he was given the task to sort out the archives, only bearing a small, unnamed dagger, spelled with a simple _deflect_ magic.

There was no colored uniform or assignated division. 

There was no rank provided at all.

However, Izuku was given a brass whistle, which was looped on the lapels of his collar, where his mouth can easily reach with a bend of his neck (just in case he lost his arms during an unexpected battle).  Old Chiyo even attached a self-aware, magical mouse running on cogs and clockwork on his belt, casted to seek help on every armed librarian in the vicinity, once it senses the owner was dying.

All these precautions seemed over the top, but it was a well-known fact that rabid books and hungry creatures often preferred to feast on their unsuspecting victims.

There’s a reason why he wasn’t still allowed to venture out alone.

But Izuku was always curious, and soon enough, he couldn’t keep himself to just take a glimpse.

“Wait, Kacchan.” He was currently kneeling on the dark marble floor, sharpened granite at hand, a thick scroll in the other, writing and sketching furiously. With quick strokes, he started drafting their map by reverse tracing their steps, trying to make it as accurate and formulating other pathways if one of the passages disappears. “I’m almost done.”

“If you get yourself killed, Deku, I swear I’ll drag you back from the waters and kill you again--.”

“Stop threatening to kill me, Kacchan. A dog is a man’s best friend.” Izuku tsked, waggling one gloved hand, not looking at his companion who kept on walking in circles around him. “Not his mother hen. Don’t worry.”

“You don’t even have a decent weapon, Deku.”

“And you’re the one who led me to this area, so who’s at fault here?”

“I followed you and took the lead because you were _lost_ , stupid. Fine, if you insist on being a stubborn idiot then I’m leaving you alone.”

“Wait! I’m already done!”

Izuku scrambled up to his feet, trying to cram all of his materials back to his satchel. As soon as he stood up, Kacchan was already in his human form, wearing a black sleeveless tunic and loose trousers, feet bare and silent as he moved on the staircase.

Despite knowing that it was currently one in the morning on top of the frosty towers, the room felt hot and foreboding. Sweat trickled over Izuku’s brow and as they went closer to the source of the sudden humidity.  
  
How can the staff ignore this? Everyone savored the barest sunlight that the sky could spare in this barren place. This sudden rise in temperature earlier this evening should have alarmed the higher ranked assistants. A magical blaze, ignited from its slumber, in the middle of a valuable old library should’ve incited _panic_ to the staff and residents alike.

 _No matter_ , Izuku finally breathed slowly, easing a bit of Kacchan’s barely contained tension, _I need to know why I was the only one who can feel it_.

It took a couple of minutes on descending through the spiral ramps, before Kacchan’s hand stopped over him from bowling over the ground.

They stood in front of an odd entrance.

Large twin doors, with aging silver handles, bearing sigils of the Sun and Moon. The images glowed softly, and they throbbed with charter marks. Even from a few feet away, Izuku could feel that the air was already blistering, with the undeniable haze settling over his view.  

Izuku felt like he was back in the kitchens, watching over the ovens bake bread and meat. Of how they stole his breath with every blaze of a stove, of how sweat had even started to scald his skin.

His hand hovered over the brass knob, thinking hundreds of options to this discovery.

Does he report back to the Deputy Librarian? Does he open the door now? But the heat was being unbearable, and if there’s a blazing inferno inside the huge doors, then it’ll consume the library soon enough.

“ _Deku._ ”

“Kacchan, I’m not going to do anything. I’m just going to check for it. I probably know four water spells at least. Besides I don’t have the emerald bracelets? I can’t open any doors without those keys.”

That’s the reason why he was a smidge confident; Without those bracelets, he won’t be able to open any doors at all, thus risking to unleash anything dangerous at all in the first place.

His hand hovered over a glowing charter sigil, trying to decipher the enchantment as hard as he could. But he couldn’t read the spell itself, and hovered his hand over the lion-knocker.

“Do I try something with this? I just-”

When he touched the curve of the brass handle, the metal burned his hand.

He didn’t notice his green eyes blazing gold, before it returned back to its color.

The door opens, groaning a deafening creak.

A icy monsoon-like gale blew across his face, more intense than the winds of Starmount peak. The nipping cold instantly put a flush to his cheeks, almost felt his limbs numbing when he protected himself with his crossed arms.

When gust suddenly sputtered to a stop, the temperature became lukewarm. It was comfortable enough to lower his crossed limbs, then took a careful step inside the small space in between the doors.

“Ah.” He breathed, with the too loud silence being unbearable. “This is odd.”

Ornate, ancient doors were supposed to be activated with emerald key bracelets that most librarians are known for. Izuku wasn’t given one yet, only promised to obtain the six green gems on his 13th birthday. But this door was odd, which reacted - _pulsed_ \- with life the instant he had grazed the brass knocker.   

There was a large awning of shadows that siphoned off the flickering mage lights on the ceiling. A huge, wooden crate stood in the center of the otherwise empty room, seemingly innocuous.

Old scribbles, almost unreadable, were written in haphazardly on the crate.

Izuku approached it carefully, hand on the dagger hilt, another outstretched. Fingers gently brushed across the inscribed words, disconnected and flickering on-off in time with a nervous heartbeat.

“ _A test_ .” He muttered, following the diagonal lines, till it reached the lip of the crate. “ _For the worthy. For the path. For the walker. A test_.’

Then he caught the smallest gap between its lid and the box.

It was open. The crate was _open_.

He gasped, turned around, and tried to scream at Kacchan that they should run and warn the librarians for a possible sealed escapee of a cursed creature. It might earn him a penalty or a permanent ban for exploring the library at night, but that wasn’t important. He had to warn people!  

And then he saw it.

Something pungent, dark and viscous, drips from the ceiling,

Pus-bright-colored eyes, with a formless mouth and grinning teeth, widened on a cloud of slime. It was ecstatic to see a prey, and grinning.

It was about to drop on Kacchan’s head.

An all-consuming fear filled his heart, forgetting that Kacchan was probably powerful enough to burn through the Free magic creature.

By some unknown instinct, Izuku pushed Kacchan away.

He couldn’t even scream, only felt all his strength in that one push and the burn of his lungs. Wet suffocating tendrils suddenly wrapped around his throat, creeping, coiling, till he could not even lift his chest to breathe. His right hand tried to move, to activate the clockwork for people to save them.     

Cold, icy water started crashing against his stiffening calves, a resounding knell of tinkling chimes called to him. He can feel shadows closing in around him, and he can’t even be sure if he can even _breathe_...

 _It’s not your time, my son._ Someone spoke, a thread of a voice. _Not yet_.

Suddenly, he was gasping for that blessed air.

And there was a scream. A series of explosions shook the ground, and the awning crumbled with each blinding light from Kacchan’s hands, as the creature boiled under his touch.

“What?”

Whoever spoke, surely it was not _Kacchan_. His crimson eyes were in pinpricks, and his hair blazed like an untamed fire. He was blinding as looking at a midnight sun, and this creature terrified him.

Not-Kacchan grasped the creature’s twig-like bones in the swill of viscous waste - _spine, its a spine_ \- in between his steaming clawed hands.   

“A low-tier creature has the audacity to _touch_ me?” The charter sigils of seals fiercely burned against his collar, letters stuttering as the live magic was unable to hold his fury. His skin now glowed in searing-gold. “Teach you a lesson, must I?”

He had to do something, even if his chest felt heavy, felt the bruising of his ribs in every movement. At how he struggled to move even his feet, to keep himself upright. In his head, the creature continued to shriek, and he could feel phantom waters flood his senses.

Izuku glimpsed the glint of sharp teeth in between the smog. A spark of sanguine-red in the gaps of blinding haze--

Their eyes met.

Like a cold splash, it rejuvenated his shaking limbs enough to grab his dagger - bland in design and blunted of edge - and scream an incantation, calling upon a fierce gale to cut through the wall of slime.

The amber ring pulsed, and the bell on Katsuki’s neck burst into peals. It reverberated all throughout the place, as the wind jerked it in violent movement. Izuku cried out as soon as the dagger moved true to the slime creature. Pressurized air tore into his thumb and forefinger  breaking them with the force of the unexpected magic.

A colorful prism-white light burst, blinding him within a second.

His eyesight returned, and in front of him, the pool of muck dissolved into smoke.

The bent dagger clattered to the ground.

Izuku let out a wheeze, before collapsing to his side. He could feel the emergency whistle broken against his throat, the mechanical mouse on the ground torn to pieces. His clothes felt constricting, and his eyes seemed to have become blurry.

Rapid patter of footsteps, and he could see a pair of feet over him.

“Wow.” Izuku wheezed, his hands tingling with excess static. “That was an adventure.”

“Dumbass.” The growl was furious, yet he could feel his trembling body as claws gripped his arms and carried him weightlessly to a sturdy back. Drawing huge amounts of energy to cast such powerful magic had finally drained him. “It could’ve easily been a tragedy.”

He didn’t hear the crack in Kacchan’s voice, drowned by the soft tinkling that lulled him to sleep.  


End file.
